chapter 3: anya

Ricky’s looked a bit more run down in comparison to the hotel. It felt much closer to the tone that she expected from the Lodge. Built upon wood and brick it was only one story tall and was close by to the restaurant Rebecca’s. Heather walked in, taking in the atmosphere. There was a counter with stools, table booths, a stage off in one corner illuminated with stage lights, and a pool table. Heather walked over to the counter, noticing a bar back was busy unloading cases of beer he must’ve retrieved from the basement.

“What’s your poison?” The bartender asked. He was a younger male with darker skin and a thick bushy beard. He was busy cleaning the taps as she approached.

“What do you have in a wine?” She didn’t typically drink beer or spirits it was usually too much for her.

“We have Vermouth, Merlot, Chardonnay, and the house special”. He had walked over to a rack of wine bottles on his side of the counter. He pulled one bottle from the rack and read its title. “Pinot Grigio, the lodge owner’s favorite.” Heather thought for a moment back to the conversation she had with Jezebel but dismissed it.

“I’ll take it.” The bartender pulled a wine glass out and started to pour. It was a pale white liquid that he filled halfway. “What is there to do around here?” Heather asked the bartender. She sipped from the glass, finding it a bit bland for her taste.

“Well.” The bartender returned the bottle to the rack. “There’s the lake of course, and the restaurant. The hotel runs events regularly, seem to be tailored to each guest that arrives. We also have activities here.” He pointed to the pool table and the stage. Heather continued to drink. Eying the other patrons with a vacant glance. Her mind was still on Michael and his message.

“We breaking?”

“I will do it.”

Heather’s attention was quickly drawn to the pool table, she heard another foreign accent. This time Russian sounding, a woman’s. It was deep and she seemed to speak English fluently. At the pool table were two figures, a man and a woman. Her attention was drawn to the woman. She had long black hair and a thin ragged face. With sunken eyes and a chiselled jawline. She was built similarly to Heather, a thin build with a tall height. And she was wearing a black tank top and camo pants. She wore dark round glasses that rested on the bridge of her nose. The woman placed the white billiard ball on the bottle green felt of the table and angled her pool cue at the triangle of balls opposite it. She held her cue behind her back, something Heather didn’t commonly see with pool players.

“Watch this” Her accent sounded her Ws as if they were Vs. Like ‘vatch. She enunciated surprisingly well Heather noticed. She hit the white ball and it collided with the triangle of balls in the center. Sending them all flying in various directions.

“You gotta be kidding me” The man said.

“Re-rack them if you would.” She said smiling. She pulled the black 8 ball from a pocket near her. Heather assumed that meant she won. The man put his pool cue down and turned around.

“Nah. I gotta jet” he said.

“I thought you were a real man.” She said laughing as he walked away. Heather watched as the dark-haired woman started to re-rack the balls herself.

“I’ll play” Heather said walking over. She met the Russian woman’s gaze. Heather grabbed a pool cue from the wall next to her. The Russian woman studied her for a few seconds then broke the silence.

“I am Anya, what is your name?” The lack of contractions was an amusing immigrant trait Heather picked up on.

“Heather.” She responded.

“Very well. Let us see if you can keep up.” Anya hit the white ball toward the center, sending the balls flying in all directions. It was Heather’s turn and she shot a striped ball into a hole immediately.

“I know how to play” Heather responded curtly. “And I play to win”.
~~~
The Lodge had 12 floors but there was an extra floor not many people were aware of, unless you physically counted the windows. It didn’t show up on the elevator control panel, instead requiring a key being inserted to access. Jezebel rode the elevator from her office on the ground floor all the way up to the hidden 6th floor. She stepped out and spotted her computer expert Theo at his desk.

“Where is she?” She asked. In front of Theo were an array of monitors displaying various security cameras. One trained on the entrance, several in the restaurant and bar and one observing the swimming pool.

“Ricky’s, at the pool table. She’s playing Anya right now. Not playing half bad either.” Theo was Asian and wore his head in a ponytail, with a long neatly trimmed goatee and glasses. He was typing rapidly on the keyboard in-front of him. “How much alcohol has she had?” He said into his headset.

“Just two glasses.” A voice on the other end belonging to the bartender, Quinton.

“Serve her another, say it’s on the house.” He typed some more again. “Lance. Are you in?”

“I’m in. How much time we got?” Another voice, this one gruffer and older sounded over his headset.

“Maybe an hour. What do you see there? Boss wants a notebook.” Theo responded. Still eying the monitor with the pool table displayed.

“I see one on the bed. That it? What color is it supposed to be?” Jezebel walked over and took a spare headset from Theo’s desk.

“It has yellow paper. Get it up here I want to know what she wrote.” Jezebel was trained on the other monitor. Her hand gripped a wooden necklace around her neck. It had a green gemstone in the center of it she fumbled with in her hand.

“Got it boss” He responded. Lance closed the door behind him and approached the elevator. Riding it to the hidden 6th floor. When he arrived, Jezebel was pacing back and forth still fiddling with her necklace.

“What does it say Lance? I want to know what she wrote down.” It was rare to see Jezebel this stressed out, she was nicknamed the “silent dictator” by the staff.

“Well, lemme see.” Lance was an older man in his 60s. White hair and a bushy mustache. Dressed in blue denim overalls. He seemingly came with the hotel when Jezebel acquired it. He was cooperative when the management shifted and he did as he was told. He never asked questions. “Your name is written in here a few times. I see a bunch of other names.”

“Skip those. What else?” Jezebel replied curtly.

Lance turned the page. “Here she’s written “Potential religious angle. Seems to attract weirdos. Press owner on it”. What does that mean boss?” Jezebel laughed to herself and stopped pacing.

“Explains things. What else.”

Lance turned the page again. “See if she looks this good in person. Determine if she received breast implants.” Theo laughed, only cut short when Jezebel shot him a glare.

“What else?” She said, her hand thumbing the amulet again.

“Let me see here… “could play up a religious cult feel in the article.”

“I knew it.” She said, her voice almost trembling. “She’s a tabloid journalist. She’s here to print an article about the Lodge and smear lies about it.”

“Some more of this checks out with that theory boss. There’s some more stuff in here. “Potential extortion of the mentally ill.” “She’s hiding something”. “

Jezebel walked over to Lance and grabbed the notebook. “She’s not wrong on that last point. We need to do something about her right now before she digs too deeply and finds out more about this place.”

“Do you think that’s likely? Didn’t you comp her stay?” Theo asked, looking up from his monitor.

“I didn’t get this far by waiting for the vultures to swoop in and take everything away from me.” Jezebel flipped through Heather’s notes. Landing on the last page, spotting what Heather wrote at the bottom. “Hopefully when my article comes out, she’ll be a bit less smug.” Jezebel read out.

“Dang boss she’s got it out for you.” Lance said. “What are you going to do about her? Give her the ‘push?”

Jezebel gave the notebook back to Lance and played with her amulet again. Her mind reeling from what she read. “The ‘push is too generous for her. This calls for something more elaborate.” Jezebel turned around and looked at Theo. “Who’s winning?”

“Journalist lady. She’s pretty good boss.” Theo said. His typing had stopped he was just watching the two women play. “She’s about to win.”

“Perfect.” Jezebel responded. A plan formulating. She gave the notebook back to Lance. “Put this back where you found it. You’ve earned an extra day off.” Lance nodded and turned around, walking back to the elevator. Jezebel walked over to a filing cabinet by the wall and pulled out a list of files.

“Dearest Anya. Why did you arrive at the Lodge again…”?

“Boss wasn’t she the one into fat people?” Theo asked, a somewhat disgusted expression on his face.

“Yes, she did let that slip, after the ‘push.” Jezebel said. She pulled out Anya’s file and saw her interview answers.

“Anya Volkov, age 34. Alcoholic. Lives on her own. That was all I got from her until I used the ‘push”. She fingered her amulet again. “Mother left her as a young child. Went to stay with her uncle in America at the age of 12. Experienced sexual abuse. Says she is only attracted to morbidly obese people. Doesn’t know how to cope or make friends. Saw the Lodge advertised on TV.” Jezebel’s plan was making her more and more excited now. “Where is she now Theo?”

“Walking back.”

“Is Lance out of her room yet?” A voice on her headset replied to her question almost immediately.

“Yes boss.” Lance replied.

“Good… good…” Jezebel purred. She put Anya’s file back into the filing cabinet and closed it. “Theo make sure Delacroix is posted out front tomorrow. Send our little journalist there as an activity. Make sure she’s in my office tomorrow morning so I can fill her in on what we’re doing.” Jezebel walked back over to Theo’s area, spotting Heather on the monitors. A smile growing on her face. “Let’s see how smug you’ll be soon, my little vulture.”